


Home

by TheManOfManyFandoms



Series: DreamSMP Angst and Comfort [12]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Child Abuse, Fainting, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Manipulative Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Sam | Awesamdude, Scared TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Sensory Overload, Separation Anxiety, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Touch-Starved TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Traumatized Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), awesamdad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:22:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29968407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheManOfManyFandoms/pseuds/TheManOfManyFandoms
Summary: Tommy just wants to go home.
Relationships: Cara | CaptainPuffy & TommyInnit, Clay | Dream & Sam | Awesamdude, Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Sam | Awesamdude & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: DreamSMP Angst and Comfort [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2052576
Comments: 66
Kudos: 488





	1. Remembering How To Exist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Re-learning being alive is a strange process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chaptered fic, people. Why do I do this to myself? Probably because Miss Rona decimated my social life so the only thing I have keeping me going are some block people and sad fanfic.
> 
> Anyway, ah haha. Enjoy this absolute pain with just a smidge of comfort thrown in... as a treat.

Tommy’s not sure how long it’s been since Dream had revived him, before he hears the sluggish gurgling that signifies the lava lowering. He hasn’t slept once since, terrified that Dream will hurt him the moment he closes his eyes. He’s already sitting, with his back pressed up against the wall, when Dream takes a few steps closer to him.

Tommy leans as far away from the man as he can manage without being able to phase through walls. “They’re coming to take you away from me,” Dream says, with a hint of a smirk.

”Thank fuck,” Tommy manages to rasp and Dream’s smile only widens. Darting out a hand, he catches Tommy by the chin and forces the teen to look him in the eyes. A whimper forces itself out of Tommy’s throat. He hates himself for it, but any touch at all is too much right now, let alone this controlling, harsh grip.

”What are you going to tell them, Tommy?” Dream asks pointedly.

”That you’re an evil bastard,” Tommy has to force the words out. Dream’s grip tightens and Tommy starts to panic. He grabs Dream by the wrist in a futile attempt to pry him off. He’s still much too weak to manage it and all it gets him is Dream’s free hand gripping Tommy’s wrist so hard that Tommy would be surprised if it doesn’t bruise.

”You will tell them that I am a god,” Dream says, with a smile that’s much too large. He looks like a shark circling its prey. “And you’ll tell them how _gracious_ I am. I could have left you dead, Tommy, and I didn’t. I want them to know what a merciful god I am.”

Tommy stares at the man in utter terror and disbelief. This man had _beaten_ him to death and he was talking about _mercy_? The teen just nods, wanting to get this hellish conversation over with. “Good boy,” Dream says in that awful, condescending tone he uses so often, “I knew you were my favorite toy for a reason.”

Dream releases his chin and ruffles his hair. Tommy cringes away from the touch and Dream laughs at him. “Oh, you should see your face whenever you do that,” he smirks. Tommy can’t breath, as Dream hauls him to his feet and drags him over to the lava barrier.

“I’ve had a lot of fun with you, Tommy,” he whispers, as the curtain of magma falls. Tommy doesn’t have the energy to respond. It’s taking all of his concentration not to have a full on break down right here and now. 

He just stares at the slowly widening gap that signifies his freedom. He can barely even remember what sunlight feels like on his skin, or what fresh, cold water tastes like. He can’t even recall the comforting weight of Sam’s hand on his shoulder, or what it feels like for Tubbo to link arms with him and drag him around Snowchester. 

When Tommy sees Sam, he doesn’t know how to feel. He feels about a million different emotions at once; each one hitting him harder than the last. Mostly, he feels a strange mix of relief and horrible fear. Sam’s wearing his mask, but Tommy can hear the fury in his voice, when he calls across the gap, “Release Tommy, Dream.”

Dream’s grip tightens, for just a moment, and Tommy jerks at the unexpected pain that comes from it. “Now, Dream, or I won’t hesitate to kill you,” Sam says stonily. Dream laughs to himself, but holds his hands up in mock surrender and backs away a bit. The netherite barrier raises, (clicking as it locks into place) finally separating Tommy and Dream.

”I’m sending the bridge across,” Sam informs Tommy, voice much softer now, “Get on it once it gets to you and try to move with it, so you don’t lose your balance.” Tommy goes through the motions numbly. He had spent over a week in the prison and nearly two months in the void. He hadn’t expected to ever leave again.

When he reaches the other side, he stands on wobbly legs and watches the lava cover Dream back up. “Bye, Tommy!” Dream calls cheerily, “See you soon!” Tommy shakes his head wordlessly, fear clogging his throat.

The moment the lava completely covers the cell, Sam whispers shakily, “Tommy?”

Tommy turns to look at him and nearly cries, with the reassurance that hits him at the sight of Sam. “Hi, Sammie,” he says in a small voice.

”You’re alive,” Sam breathes. He instinctively grabs Tommy and pulls him into a tight hug. “Gods, you- I- you were _dead_ , Tommy. I _saw_ you.”

Tommy’s heart is pounding. He’s missed Sam so badly, but the contact is too much, too much, _too much_ \- he rips himself out of the creeper hybrid’s arms, breathing much too heavily. “Tommy?” Sam says cautiously.

”Don’t touch me!” Tommy gasps out, wrapping his arms around himself, “Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, just please don’t touch me right now.”

“Okay,” Sam says softly, “I won’t touch you, kiddo. I’m sorry I didn’t ask first.” Tommy swallows hard, trying to stop himself from shaking so hard. “Are you ready to leave?” Sam asks and Tommy nods frantically. 

The experience of going through all of the cramped water passages and nauseating teleportations, was already bad enough. Now, to Tommy’s heightened senses, it’s nightmarish. By the time they reach the last nether portal, he’s shivering so hard he can barely stand. “There might be a few people out there,” Sam warns him gently, “They’ll probably get loud, but I won’t let them touch you.”

”Thank you,” Tommy says sincerely. His throat is so dry, it’s painful to speak. When they arrive on the other side of the nether portal, Tommy has to squint and bring a hand up to shield his eyes from the blinding sunlight. He staggers forward, basking in the warmth. It’s all too much, but not enough at the same time. The moment he reaches the grass, he collapses to his knees.

Grabbing fistfuls of bright green grass, he revels in the soft texture. Nothing has been soft in so, so long. There are people nearby. He can hear them talking, sounding like a swarm of bees. He doesn’t have enough left in him to care much.

He closes his eyes, laying in the grass, uncaring of the eyes on him. He tilts his head back, trying to soak in as much of the sun’s warmth as he can. He’s crying, now. They’re tears of relief that come straight from his chest.

The voices are getting louder and he cringes, shuffling back from the commotion. The people sound like Tommy’s hearing them through an old radio. The noise is fuzzy and tinny and almost sounds like it’s coming from a different location entirely. Some sound angry, others sound like they’re crying, all sound distressed.

The volume increases and he covers his ears with his hands, trying to block out the too-loud yelling. Someone touches his arm and he lets out a truly visceral scream, throwing himself away from whoever is touching, _~~attacking, hurting, beating~~ _him. He cracks an eye open and sees Badboyhalo sprawled on the ground, Sam standing over him. The warden is shouting something, but it all blends in to the multitude of other voices.

A whine rips itself out of Tommy’s throat and he clamps his hands down harder over his ears. Everything is just too much. Tommy wants everyone to go away. He just wants Sam. Please, _please **,**_ he just wants Sam. The yelling picks up once more, before finally softening into, more tolerable, muttering and then fading completely.

Sam turns and Tommy hates the way they loom over him. Pulling his knees up to his chest, he instinctively tries to make himself a smaller target. Sam flips a few latches on his mask and pulls it off, making himself look decidedly less intimidating. The creeper hybrid sits in front of Tommy, so the boy no longer has to stare up at them.

He's saying something that filters through Tommy's ears like sand. He catches some of it, but most slips out of his grasp. What he _does_ understand, is the unspoken offer behind Sam holding out a hand invitingly; palm up.

Tommy stares at it for a long moment, gauging how much his skin crawls at the thought of being touched. Eventually, he cautiously removes one of his own hands from his ear and brings it slowly forward. His hand hovers over Sam's, for a moment, before he loosely grabs the slightly scaly hand.

Sam holds his hand lightly, making it abundantly clear that Tommy can simply pull away at any moment. "Can you talk to me, Tommy?" Sam asks, voice blessedly quiet.

" 'M tired, Sam," Tommy whispers, tears springing to his eyes all over again.

"You can go to sleep, kiddo," Sam says reassuringly, "I'll be right here."

Tommy frowns, "But- but what if I wake up and I'm not actually alive? Or- or I'm still back in the prison?"

"You're alive and real," Sam says firmly, "I promise. I'm never letting you near the prison again." Tommy blinks sluggishly, eyes not wanting to open again. "Would you be alright with a hug, Tommy?" Sam finally asks. His eyes look so sad and it makes Tommy's heart clench. He doesn't ever want Sam to be sad. 

"Okay," Tommy nods, falling forward into the man's arms. He practically melts in Sam's gentle hold. It's not too constricting and it feels so warm and safe and Tommy's so, so tired. He blinks hard again, fighting off rest for as long as he can. 

Sam is rocking him from side to side slightly and Tommy would have complained about being treated like a child, if it wasn't so comforting. He yawns into Sam's shoulder, eyes slipping shut. He finally loses the battle to sleep and falls into a dreamless slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos/comments/bookmarks are always hella pog. I’d to love to hear your thoughts about this one in the comments <3


	2. Sometimes I Think I’m Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *title from Home by Cavetown
> 
> Tommy has trouble remembering where he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... how ‘bout Tommy’s Mar. 12 stream? I may or may not have started legitimately sobbing halfway through. It was actually heartbreaking. We need Therapuffy in this bitch
> 
> TW: Panic attacks, flashbacks
> 
> Enjoy :]

When Tommy wakes up, he doesn’t have a clue where he is. Naturally, this makes him jolt up in the unexpectedly comfortable bed he’s laying in. He strokes the sheets, in something like wonder. It’s so, incredibly soft; he feels like he’s laying on clouds. He takes a corner of the snow white comforter in one shaking hand and rubs it against his cheek. He’s missed soft, gentle things.

He nearly forgets about his panic, as he revels in the feeling of being alive and unhurt. He wants to stay here in this hazy state of near-sleep forever. He never wants to feel anything rough, or harmful, again. He’s snapped out of his contemplative thoughts, by a shaky voice saying, “H-hello?” 

Tommy’s head snaps towards the doorway to see Tubbo standing there. He looks as if he’s seen a ghost; face pale and drawn. “Hi, Tubbo,” Tommy responds in a low, quiet voice.

Tubbo stumbles back a step, breathing heavily. “Okay, okay, this is- this is fine,” he pants, laughing nervously, “I- you really are alive.”

”How did I get here?” Tommy asks urgently, shakily getting to his feet. He glances around the room automatically, noting the window on the wall opposite the door as a quick escape route. 

“Sa- Sam brought you here two days ago,” Tubbo stammers, “I half- I half thought I was hallucinating. You- you’re _dead_ , Tommy, you’re _dead_. I saw your body.” Tommy flinches back at the blunt words. Tubbo laughs again, a humorless, half-hysterical thing, threading his fingers through his hair and shaking his head in utter distress.

”Don’t say that,” Tommy says frantically, “Please don’t say that. I know- I know it happened, but don’t say it, Tubbo, please. And don’t make me talk about what happened. I don’t wanna talk about it. I don’t- I don’t-“

”Okay!” Tubbo says quickly, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace, “I won’t make you talk about anything. I just- you’re here and you’re alive. H-how?”

Tommy twists his fingers together anxiously, rocking on the balls of his feet. He gestures for Tubbo to come closer and the teen does so, still looking shell-shocked. Somehow, Tommy feels like saying it at any louder than a whisper would summon Dream straight to him. So, he leans forward and whispers into Tubbo’s ear, “Dream revived me.”

Stepping back, he sees Tubbo’s eyes widen in realization. “The revive book,” he breathes and Tommy nods, frowning unhappily. “Well- well you should come downstairs with me,” Tubbo urges, “Sam’s down there, with Captain Puffy, and so is-“ he pauses, face falling. He grimaces as he continues, “So is my, uh, my husband.”

”Your _what_?” Tommy recoils.

”I, uh, got married to Ranboo,” Tubbo admits, twisting a silver band on his finger that Tommy hadn’t yet noticed.

“Oh, uh, that’s cool I guess,” Tommy shrugs awkwardly, staring at his feet. Tubbo grabs his arm and Tommy jolts back, swallowing a scream and letting out a weird sort of yelp, instead.

”Oh, I’m sorry,” Tubbo says hastily, backing away quickly, “I didn’t- I didn’t mean to scare you.”

”You didn’t scare me,” Tommy snaps, still breathing heavily, “I’m not weak.”

”Okay,” Tubbo nods in agreement, “Well... meet me downstairs whenever- whenever you’re comfortable, I guess.” Tommy hates this newfound awkwardness he has with his best friend. Tubbo’s stare burns into him for a moment longer, before the other turns and Tommy hears the stairs creaking, as he walks down them.

Before Tommy follows him, he subtly cracks open the window and takes a deep, prolonged breath of fresh air. He leaves the window open, supposing that it’d be nice to have an easy exit, if he winds up having to run. He’s not sure why he’d have to, but it makes him feel a bit better, so he indulges himself.

He cautiously walks down the stairs, mindful of every creak and pop of the wood, as he steps on it. He slinks into the living room and immediately wants to hide. There are four pairs of eyes trained on him and it makes him feel horribly small. “Hey, Tommy,” Ranboo says, sounding unsure, “It’s, uh, good to see you well.”

”Thanks, Tubbo’s husband,” Tommy mutters. Maybe there’s a hint of bitterness in his tone. He can’t bring himself to care.

”He, uh, he told you that?” Ranboo asks.

”Yeah,” Tommy says, forcing a smile onto his face, “I’m happy for you two.” He really is, too, but he can’t bring himself to be truly happy about being replaced. He doesn’t know if Tubbo has room in his life for two best friends. Maybe he does, but nobody ever seems to have room for Tommy.

”Tommy,” Puffy is the next to speak and the first person that Tommy has greeted with a completely genuine smile. She’s the only person that Tommy’s ever met, who’s never once hurt him or betrayed him. Darkly, he wonders how long it’ll last. 

”How’d you know I was alive?” Tommy questions. His voice still isn’t quite right and he doesn’t know how to fix it. It’s too quiet and trembly and it would be embarrassing, if each and every person in this room hadn’t seen him have, at least, one complete mental breakdown.

”I was outside of the prison when you were let out,” Puffy explains, voice softening slightly. 

Tommy grimaces, “Oh.”

”I’m so glad you’re okay,” Puffy says, “Can I- can I hug you, Tommy?”

Tommy hesitates. “Not too tight,” he finally responds, allowing Puffy to wrap her arms around him. He has to lean down to fit into the hug, but it’s nothing he’s not used to. Tubbo’s only an inch or two taller than the Captain.

Puffy rubs his back, as she holds him, and Tommy feels tears springing to his eyes. Sniffling, he buries his face in the curly wool that falls from her head onto the top of her shoulder. It’s all so nice, until she squeezes just a bit too tight and his lungs constrict in panic. She seems to sense it and releases him immediately, but it takes him a moment to ground himself again.

Sam reaches to touch his arm and Tommy rips his arm away from him. “Don’t touch me!” He bites out, “I hate you!” Sam flinches at the words, taking a step back. “You let me die, you bastard,” Tommy keeps going. Now that he’s found his voice, he’s not going to stop until someone makes him.

Sam closes his eyes for a long moment. “I ran, when I realized what was happening,” Sam says in a soft, pained voice, “By the time I got there, it was already done.”

”You failed your one fucking job,” Tommy snaps, voice wobbling, “You let- you let _him_ kill me.”

”I’m so sorry, Tommy,” Sam says quietly, staring hard at the ground. He starts to leave the room and, for a moment, Tommy is viciously glad of it. But, the moment he can no longer see him, Tommy’s heart sinks to his stomach.

Because, Sam is leaving. He’s leaving because Tommy pushed him away and now Sam’s going to hate him and he’s never going to want to talk to him again and Tommy _needs_ Sam. He needs him and now Sam’s going to leave him, or hurt him, or- or _something_ terrible. “ _Sam_!” Tommy shrieks, stumbling after him, “Sam! Sam, come back, come back, please, I’m sorry.”

Sam is by his side in an instant and Tommy latches onto his arm with both shaking hands. “Please don’t leave me,” Tommy says pleadingly, voice trembling, “Not again. Never again.”

”Oh, Tommy, I wasn’t going to leave you,” Sam says earnestly, “I’m sorry it seemed like that. I was just trying to give you some space.”

Tommy pulls his hands back as if he’d been burnt. “I- I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I don’t know- I don’t know what that was.” Why had he freaked out like that? Why hadn’t he realized that of _course_ Sam wasn’t just walking away?

Tommy shakes his head at himself, stumbling backwards until he runs into something, or someone, solid. He shrieks at the unexpected contact, whirling around to see that he had bumped into _Ranboo_ , of all people. Ranboo’s reaching out and, had Tommy been in a better mindset, he would have realized that the enderman is just trying to steady him. 

Instead, he squeezes his eyes shut and ducks away from the hybrid, frantically muttering, “Don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me, _please_ , Dream.” He’s back there. He’s back there and he knows that, any moment now, Dream is going to force him to open his eyes. Force him to make eye contact, as he beats Tommy into the ground.

The next time Tommy is aware of anything at all, he’s huddled on the ground with his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms shielding his head. “Do you know who I am?” A soft voice asks. By the tone, Tommy can gather that this isn’t the first time the question has been asked.

”You sound like Puffy,” he rasps, lowering his arms, but still not daring to open his eyes. 

“Very good,” Puffy praises softly, “Do you remember where you are?”

Tommy has to think about that one for a moment, but, finally, he tries tentatively, “In Tubbo’s house?” 

”Good,” Puffy says encouragingly, “Do you think you can open your eyes for me?” Tommy opens his eyes slightly, glancing up anxiously. He and Puffy are alone in the living room together. Everybody else must have left them. “You’re doing great, kiddo,” Puffy is smiling reassuringly and Tommy can feel himself relax. 

”What-“ Tommy hesitates, “What happened?”

”You had a pretty bad panic attack,” Puffy tells him sympathetically, “We should have known not to spring all of us on you at once.”

”It’s not your fault,” Tommy mumbles, “Was just me being stupid.” 

”Your trauma doesn’t make you stupid, Tommy,” Puffy says. Her voice is stern, but not unkind and it makes Tommy feel safe.

He shrugs, in response to her words, and mutters, “I suppose not.”

”Are you feeling any better?” Puffy asks and Tommy shrugs half-heartedly.

”I can breath now, if that’s what you mean,” he says roughly.

”That’s good progress,” Puffy says. Tommy can’t stand the sincerity in her gaze.

He scoffs, “I don’t need your pity.”

”I’m not pitying you,” Puffy says, “I just care about you, Tommy, and I want to help you.”

”Oh,” Tommy says awkwardly, “Can you- can you help me get food than? I’m so fucking hungry.”

”I’d imagine so.” Puffy frowns slightly and Tommy has to remind himself that she isn’t angry at him. “You were asleep for nearly two full days. Come on, I’ll come with you to the kitchen. I’m no chef, but I can make a mean omelet.” She grins and Tommy gets the feeling that there’s a double meaning to her words that he’s not quite getting.

Regardless, he stands and follows her into the kitchen like a lost, baby duckling. He sits on a stool in front of the counter and rests his head on his arms. The panic attack had taken a lot out of him and he despises the weak, shaky feeling that still controls his limbs. He hopes that the rest of the day will go better for him. He’s not sure why he even lets himself hope anymore. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all liked the chapter :] kudos/bookmarks would be great and I’d love to hear your opinions in the comments!
> 
> For some reason this story feels really organic to write? Idk, the words are behaving for once lmao
> 
> Sometimes I listen to Line Of Sight by ODESZA and cry.


End file.
